


How voldemort failed to return...

by KandySaur



Series: Merlin/HP crossovers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KandySaur/pseuds/KandySaur
Summary: When Merlin saw that the quidditch world cup was going to take place in England for the first time in three hundred years, he decided to pack up his camp, and return to his homeland... Only to find himself once more caught up in destiny and fate and the lives of one troublesome trio





	1. Prolauge, chapter 1

Prologue

For over a thousand years, Merlin had traveled alone. Given that his name "Emrys" means "immortal", it wasn't all that surprising. After Arthur's death on the shores of Avalon, Merlin had waited patiently for his return. Patiently until the 300th anniversary of the fall of Camelot.

On that day, Merlin decided to leave. If Arthur didn't want to return, that was fine by him. Merlin didn't have to wait like a lost puppy. With this conviction, Merlin departed. Rumors slowly reached him of a school to the north in Scotland. A school of Magic.

So, naturally, Merlin used a reverse aging spell and enrolled himself at Hogwarts. Every century or so he returned. Sometimes as a first year, but more often than not, 'transferring' to the school as an older student. It is hard to pretend to be so ignorant for so long, especially after what had happened the first time…but it is even harder to learn things over and over, trying to hide vast quantities of knowledge. So, this pattern remained unbroken, and relatively uninteresting. That is until 1995. That year, Voldemort returned.

Chapter 1: Merlin

Merlin was in South America deep within the Amazon jungle. In this remote location, it was very odd to see an almost white owl swoop down and drop a rolled up newspaper on the ground next to him. Even more odd was the front page sporting a moving picture and advertising a large athletic event- the Quidditch World Cup.

Merlin had not step foot anywhere in the United Kingdom in over 50 years. The last time he visited was to protect the city of London from German air raids which was not exactly a pleasant experience. So, when he saw that England was hosting the Quidditch World Cup (for the first time in 300 years) he decided to attend. Well, I can check up on Hogwarts again in person, he thought. 

Though Merlin was not the seer that Morgana had been, the Old Religion had granted him a limited knowledge of the future. He vaguely knew of young Mr. Potter's destiny. It was a VERY limited knowledge. Merlin had not decided to interfere. After all, he reasoned, the future will unfold how it wants no matter what I do. I've learned that the hard way.

Time would not every really heal the grief Merlin felt on the fall of Camelot. He had tried so hard to save it...but that was years ago. Not now.

Merlin set down the Daily Prophet and proceeded to Vanish all evidence of his camp. I guess I'm done here he thought before apparating back to where his story had begun.

...

Meanwhile, an old man named Frank Bryce was murdered by the servant of the Dark Lord, and a young boy named Harry Potter woke up with a pain in his scar.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter was seemingly a normal boy. Seemingly. However, to a small, relatively unknown community, Harry Potter was a hero. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and Harry Potter the wizard. Looking at this boy would not have turned up anything very unusual. Nothing except for the odd scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was this scar that Harry clutched in pain after wakening from his nightmare.

It was the middle of summer, Harry's least favorite time of year. He had to endure months away from all of his friends and everything magical. Long days of inactivity, boredom, and the occasional bully (Dudley Dursley, Harry's massively overweight cousin) could never compare to the magic of the Wizarding World and Hogwarts. Anything strange or in any way magical was almost a blessing. So, Harry tried to remember his dream before writing a letter to his godfather, the wanted escapee Sirius Black.

Harry went downstairs to the kitchen for what passed as breakfast at the Dursley's due to a newly enforced diet, where he received an unexpected surprise.

This surprise came in the form of a letter with an unusual number of postage stamps. This letter was from Harry's friend Ron's mother asking if Harry could go to the Quidditch World Cup with them. After snarky comments, vague threats, and a quick owl message to his friends, it was agreed that Ron's family, the Weasleys, would come and retrieve Harry and bring him back to the Burrow where they would stay until the World Cup began.

The day of the Cup began early. The youngest Weasley, Ginny, asked why.

"We have a bit of a hike. Not to the World Cup!" Mr. Weasley said, seeing Harry about to protest. "That's much too far away to walk. No, we will be-"

"George!" interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "What do you have in your pockets?"

"Nothing, Mum, it's -" George began.

"Don't you dare lie to me, young man!" She then proceeded to Summon a ridiculous amount of Ton-Tongue Toffees that the twins, Fred and George, had slipped to Harry's cousin Dudley.

The group left quickly after that to escape the wrath of Mrs. Weasley.

"So how exactly are we getting to the World Cup?" Harry asked.

"Well," replied Mr. Weasley. "We will be taking a Portkey. An object that, when you touch it, can transport you to a desired location."

"And what kind of things can Portkeys be?"

"Well, they can be any sort of object, but... Oh here we are!" The group of Weasleys (plus Harry and Hermione) had arrived at the top of a hill.

"Good. We have 10 minutes." said Mr. Weasley, checking his watch.

"Is there anyone else taking this Portkey?" asked Hermione.

"To my knowledge, only Amos Diggory and his son, Cedric..." He was interrupted by a shout from down the hill.

"Arthur! Glad you made it!"

"Amos! It's good to see you. Have you found the Portkey?"

Harry turned around to see a middle aged wizard with a beard along with a younger boy who looked vaguely familiar. Cedric?

"No. I haven't see it. We had better hurry and find it or we will miss it!" Amos Diggory said with a worried look. The group searched frantically over the hilltop. Several minutes passed until they heard a very unfamiliar voice call out.

"Were you all looking for this Portkey? The one to the Quidditch World Cup?"

...

Everyone stopped and turned to face the newcomer. He looked young—student aged—with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded Harry of Dumbledore. He wore perfect Muggle attire, unlike most wizards trying to blend in, but still looked out of place. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Do you recognize this bloke?" Ron muttered to Harry. "He looks like he should be at Hogwarts, but I've never seen him before."

"Nope. I have absolutely no idea."

The boy looked uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of everyone there. He was holding an extremely old moldy boot.

"Er, well, you might want to grab onto the boot. It's going to leave any second." the strange boy said.

Everyone else started and raced towards the boot. They were just in time, too, for no sooner had they touched the boot than Harry felt a weird tugging behind his naval and they were jerked away to their destination.

They were thrown unceremoniously on the ground, except for the newcomer who miraculously landed gracefully on his feet. The boy walked over and began helping the rest of them up.

"Who the bloody he** are you?" asked Ron, unable to contain it. "How come we've never seen you before? Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?" The boy looked around to see Ron's curiosity mirrored on everyone's face. He shifted around for a few seconds as if deliberating before responding.

"My name is Milo Emerson."


	3. Chapter 3

Ron Weasley was not impressed. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at "Milo".

"That doesn't tell us who you are." Ron growled.

"I'm transferring to Hogwarts this year. I was home-schooled and traveling with my guardian, but he died. Now I'm coming to Hogwarts. I think I would be in ... fourth year?"

"Oh, really?" Ron continued. Hermione finally nudged him and shot him a significant look. Harry glanced nervously at both his friends and the newcomer.

"It's all right." Milo said, soothing Hermione. "I know it might seem a little suspicious. I really did just transfer! Just in time, too, I mean I don't know if it's really a good thing or not, and it's not like I'd be able to enter the Tr-"

"It is very nice to meet you, Milo." Arthur Weasley hurriedly interrupted. "I know my son, Ron, is pleased to meet you as well." Ron wilted under the "parent glare". Fred, George, and Ginny hurriedly stepped forward to introduce themselves. Milo shook all of their hands. Next came Hermione who shyly took his hand. Finally it was Harry's turn. Though Milo seemed nice, Harry was tired of introducing himself and being fawned over.

"Er, hi. Milo, was it? My name is Harry. Harry-"

"Potter." Milo finished with a smile. That was the only sign that he recognized Harry as he did not glance at his scar. "It's good to meet you." Milo turned away to meet the Diggorys.

A wave of relief washed over Harry. Even though it was still odd for everyone he met to know his last name, being introduced as a normal person, with no fawning or bowing or excited chatter, was such a welcome change that he almost didn't know what to do with himself. Hermione seemed to notice this as well, and Harry stood awkwardly to the side avoiding Hermione's curious stares for a few minutes before he was brought back to reality by Milo saying goodbye.

"My campsite is probably the farthest away from here, so I'd best be off. Maybe I'll see you guys later? If not, I'll see you at Hogwarts!"

A chorus of goodbyes followed him as Milo departed. When he turned around the bend and disappeared behind the first tent, Milo sighed. These were his first introductions under the name "Milo Emerson". Merlin was now on his way to going back to Hogwarts. Those people were...pleasant. He reflected. They were all friendly- well, except for that Ron fellow. Sounds like another suspicious prat I know…but he might warm up a bit... Merlin was lost in thought so he tripped over a tent rope and collided face first with a Ministry official who Merlin recognized as Ludo Bagman.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Bagman." Merlin apologized quickly.

The former Quidditch player was attired in old, brightly colored Quidditch robes. Merlin could tell he was generally a very jovial fellow, but at the moment, worry lines creased his face and he was pacing back and forth distractedly, muttering under his breath.

"Oh, dear. What to do? We can't very well- but if we- no. Urgh!"

"Um, sir?" Bagman stopped pacing for a second and looked at Merlin, finally realizing he crashed into a someone, not a something.

"Who on earth are you?" Bagman asked, brusquely.

"My name is Milo, sir. Milo Emerson." Merlin replied extending his hand. Bagman took it halfheartedly.

"Is everything all right?" Merlin asked.

"No! Everything is not all right!" Bagman exploded. "It was all going splendidly until the Irish Chaser, Moran, went and fell off his broom!"

Merlin was puzzled. "But surely that's not too uncommon?"

"It's uncommon to fall off a broom at 1500 feet in the air! It's a miracle he's alive! He only broke half the bones in his body!" Ludo Bagman suddenly stopped ranting. "Why the he** am I telling you this?"

"People like to tell me their problems," Merlin shrugged. "I just have one of those faces."

"...Okay." Bagman continued. "Well for some reason-and I don't know why in heaven's name this is—they have no substitute Chasers. Not one!" He stopped again and gave Merlin a once-over. "I can't get a player from another professional team, they can't be relied on…and they wouldn't have lived in the country, hmm…can't get a student player—they're not allowed to receive money…what to do? You don't happen to play Quidditch, do you? Or know anybody who could –"

"No, I can play Quidditch." Merlin replied.

"Well, you are a little young. Are you a student?"

"No, I'm not a student." Yet, his mind added. It's technically not against the rules if I'm not enrolled…"I've been playing Quidditch longer than you'd think." And that is the truth. Merlin thought. Much longer than you've been alive for sure.

"Hmm." Bagman looked thoughtful. "I suppose I could at least suggest it to the other players...yes. That's at least a start. You may just have saved the day!" Bagman started off in the direction of the stadium with Merlin in tow.

About 30 minutes later they arrived at a giant tent a few yards from the stadium. When Merlin entered with Bagman, he could see the Irish Quidditch players in various states of panic. Some were nervously pacing while others were collapsed and sobbing. Bagman walked up to a young woman on a couch with her head in her hands.

"Hello! Eibhlin Mullet! I may have found a substitute for Moran. This here is Milo Emerson." Bagman said, beaming. Mullet looked up at Merlin and frowned.

"But he's just a kid! Our team has worked too hard to be sabotaged by an inexperienced—urgh. Isn't there some other professional Quidditch player who could sub in?"

Merlin was mildly offended. He may have constantly been underestimated, but that didn't mean he was entirely used to it. Or happy about it for that matter.

"Listen, I'm a better than I look. You should at least give me a chance—practice with me once. And also, there is no other player you can use. They have their own teams, and you would need someone who had lived in Ireland for, what is it, ten years? I have. So, you can either give me a try, or give up and forfeit the game. I would advise you all to stop being dollop heads and at least try!" As soon as Merlin finished, he felt a bit of remorse. There was no need to yell at them like that. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll just go-"

"No. You're right." Mullet stood up. "We do need another player and, if you think you can keep up and not be a hindrance, then we should give you a chance." Then she smiled at him. "Plus, we need a bit of fire on this team. Livens it up a bit. Come on." She gestured to her teammates. "Let's see how good this kid is."

Merlin was tossed a broom—a Firebolt—as he followed the Irish Quidditch players onto a smaller practice field a little further away. Wait, what am I doing? I haven't played Quidditch in years! Several other thoughts crowded into Merlin's head, but they immediately ceased when he took to the air. The team flew a few laps around the field before a Chaser, Troy, called Merlin over.

"Okay. Here's how this is will go. We are not going to ease you in. If you can't keep up, there is no time to teach you and we will have to forfeit anyway. If you do manage to be useful, then we may still have a chance at this thing."

Without another word, Troy threw the Quaffle into the air. Merlin darted up to catch it and then let his instincts take over. Well, it's not a dragon, but...almost. After only ten minutes, it was clear that Merlin had not exaggerated his abilities.

"Merlin's beard!" Bagman exclaimed as the team returned to the ground. The real Merlin cringed slightly. He would never get used to people using his name like that. "You really can fly! That was incredible! I'd say you're on par with Victor Krum! But you're not a student? Where did you learn to fly like that?"

"Um, well, I like flying, and I'm not a student yet…I'm transferring to Hogwarts this year. I'll be a fourth year." Merlin tried in vain to redirect the conversation away from himself. He had never got used to receiving praise. It was unsettling.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Skirting the rules and a fantastic Quidditch player to boot. You have officially saved the entire World Cup." Bagman beamed and clapped Merlin on the shoulder before returning to the tent. Merlin's new teammates followed suit until Merlin stood alone on the practice field. Well, this is definitely a first. He thought as he walked towards the tent. I'm playing in the Quidditch World Cup.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... So. This is where I take over the creation of this story... Let me know what you think!

Once Harry and the Weasleys reached the stadium, they began clambering upward with the rest of the crowd, who slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Their party however, kept climbing, and, when at last they reached the top of the staircase they found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and exactly halfway between the golden goal posts.  
Mr Weasley looked down at their tickets, and instructed them to the front seats on the right hand side of the box.  
After a few less than pleasant encounters (the sr. Malfoys had decided to insult the weasleys, and Harry had insulted jr. Malfoy’s mum, after he had had a go at Hermione for being muggle born).  
And a few much more pleasant encounters - Harry, Ron, and Hermione met Winky, Barty Crouch’s house elf.  
After about ten more minuets of idle chit chat, testing their omnoculars, and hearing the whole match schedule by heart by Hermione, Ludo Bagman stood up, and announced the team mascots for Bulgaria (Veela).  
After a few minuets of people resisting the urge to launch themselves from the stands, the Irish mascots, leprechauns, were announced.  
They flew circles around the pitch a few times, dropping gold coins as the audience oohed and ahhed, before drawing rainbows and Irish flags in the sky.  
Once the mascots finished their parts, the game began with Bagman announcing the teams.  
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!”  
I huge cheer came from the Bulgarians as the team flew out.  
“And now I give you the Irish national team! Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Milo! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch! That’s right folks! You heard me! Moran had an accident, so Milo here agreed to substitute, saving the match!”  
The cheers from the Irish supporters was deafening as they heard this, and a hundred pairs of omnoculars found themselves eyeing up the new player.  
“Hey, Ron!” Harry hissed “Isn’t that the guy from the portkey?”  
“Yeah, blimey! He said he’s gonna be in our year? He must be really good! I wonder what house he’ll be in? D’ya recon he’ll play for his house team? If we have to play against him we’re in big trouble!”  
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.” agreed Harry before turning back to the game.  
"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" Announced bagman.  
Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.  
"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Milo! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Milo!"  
Harry had never seen quidditch like it, Bagman barely had time to say the names of the players before the Quaffel had been passed onto the next player. Harry carefully assessed each player in slow motion through his omnoculars. Troy seemed to have excellent aim, always throwing hard and accurately directly in the path of his teammates, while Dimitrov and Mullet were less accurate they made up for it by being able to catch anything without even slowing, even if the throw ended up just behind them. Levski was especially good at tight turns and easily dodging the Bulgarian team if they tried to block him... and Milo, well, Harry couldn’t find a fault in his play. He seemed to be perfectly in sync and aware of everything around him - he even managed to hit a bludger at the Bulgarian chasers with the back of his broom.  
"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.  
Every wizard gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was - it wasn’t their! They were going to crash!  
Hermione mimicked his thoughts out loud just as Krum pulled up and spiralled off gracefully, while Lynch, on the other hand, smashed face first onto the pitch, earning a loud groan from the Irish side of the pitch.  
The second the referee called time out, Milo was hurtling towards the ground at full speed, warning another gasp from the crowd, and a cheer, and Milo, like Krum pulled up at the last second, however, instead of flying back up, he went straight, and jumped off running, and he came to a graceful halt next to lynch, just as the medi-witches got there.  
After doing what looked to Harry like reassuring his tea-mate, he turned to the medi-witches, and they nodded, so Harry assumed that they were saying that Lynch would be fine. Just then the rest of the team landed next to them, and after each checking on Lynch, they turned back to Milo, and even though Harry couldn’t hear them, they looked like they were impressed with Milo’s flying, and Milo’s blush, just added to this impression.  
"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course. . . . "  
“Wasn’t that dive epic tho, honestly, this Milo guy is the best player in the whole team, and that’s saying something! And the blokes only fourteen!” Ranted Ron.  
“Yes, he does appear to be the most fluent doesn’t he? I couldn’t fault his play.” Commented Hermione.  
“Yeah, me either.” Said Harry, as he hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes.  
Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air with the rest of his team. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far.  
After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.  
After three more goals by the Irish, the leprechauns began making cocky and rude signs at the Veela, who were getting increasingly irritated by the minuet.  
The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.  
Hermione prodded Harry "Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.  
Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.  
"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"  
A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked very embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.  
"And unless I'm very much mistaken, Mostafa is actually sending off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Oh this could turn nasty. . .  
It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE. " Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.  
"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms. . . yes. . . there they go. . . and Troy takes the Quaffle. . . "  
After Troy took his penalties (scoring both, as the Bulgarian keeper was too angry to properly pay attention), play resumed.  
A few Irish goals, and one Bulgarian goal later, Krum caught the snitch.  
“He knew they were too far behind to catch up and wanted to end it on his own terms, bill explained to a confused Hermione. As the Irish flew a lap of honour, before shaking hands with the Bulgarians left the pitch.  
A minuet later they entered the top box, which was now being projected onto the large display screens around the pitch.  
"Let's have a hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.  
The crowd cheered and clapped, but when Bagman yelled “and the Winners of the Quiddich World Cup, Ireland!” The Irish team filed in, and the crowed went wild, Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard such a sound in his life!  
Half an hour later everybody began to leave and head back to the campsites to celebrate, or in the case of the Bulgarians, mourn their loss and discuss the match.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sory for the wait guys, just got back to school and it's been hectic!

Once Merlin and the rest of the Irish team had left the top box, they headed down to the changing rooms to freshen up and discuss the match while it was still fresh in their minds, before heading out to celebrate with their victory.  
“Whew!”  
“Yeah, That must be the most solid victory we’ve had all season... ever, even.”  
“You don’t say!”  
Merlin didn’t said anything, trying to avoid the conversation turning to him for as long as possible; this way he would be able to gather his thoughts and allow himself to come up with an excuse for his near perfect performance.  
“Yeah, and it’s definitely in part to Milo here!” Connolly said grinning.  
“I know right, I couldn’t find a single fault in his flying, not that I was watching very closely, but when you lot had the quaffel I had a chance to inspect him.” Replied Ryan.  
“Definitely on par with Krum...”  
“Definitely, and far smoother than any of our current chasers.”  
“Easily, it’s a shame he’ll be a student next year, or he’d definitely be staying on the team.”  
Merlin sighed quietly to himself, he should probably comment, “Thanks, but I really wasn’t that good, I kept messing up my cannon bludger rolls, and my jack’n’dudder tumble was really sloppy” Not true, but hopefully they would take his word for it, and focus on somebody else, he really wanted to keep attention off himself as much as possible, which meant, he realised, he really shouldn’t have played.  
Apparently Lynch got the hint; “Guys, give him some space, he’s fourteen for Merlin’s sake!”  
Again, Merlin winced at the use of his name, but he still gave Lynch a grateful glance. Lynch smiled back at him, before turning back and beginning to scrutinise the play of each of the others, including saying that maybe Merlin could give him lessons on wronski feinting later that evening, to which Merlin, albeit reluctantly, agreed.  
After another hour and a half of scrutinising the game, they decided to head out to the pitch for a warm down before heading out to celebrate with the Irish fans and their families.  
“Lynch, did you want me to show you how I learnt to wronski feint?”  
“Oh, yes please!”  
Merlin picked up his broom, and flew into the centre of the pitch, where he pulled out his wand and flew around, creating a large green field in the air. “This field is just a hologram, but when you touch it, it turns red, so, to practice the wronski feint, you dive towards it, and pull up at the last minuet possible, to reset it, you just say reset.” He explained, before falling into a demonstrative dive, which he pulled off perfectly, flying across the grass with his toes just an inch above the ground.  
“Just keep practicing, and you’ll quickly get a sense of when you need to pull up...”  
“Thanks, i’ll make sure the whole team can do it... that’ll make for one impressive exit from the pitch.”  
Merlin just laughed, before bidding the team goodnight and heading into the forest by the pitch.  
He didn’t get far though, due to coming across a large number of ministry officials surrounding Harry, Ron, and Hermione, accusing them of conjuring the dark mark, which Merlin was now berating himself for not noticing before, he must be really tired if he hadn’t picked up something as potent as that.  
Merlin knew if he tried to escape around the bundle, they would immediately spot him and accuse him of conjuring the mark, which was utterly ridiculous, but of course, they didn’t know that, so he decided instead to intervene, especially as the golden trio appeared to be getting more desperate by the second.  
“What’s going on here?” He asked in his most commanding voice, trying to make them see past the fourteen year old body he resided in.  
“Mr Potter and his friends here cast the dark mark, mister err... I’m sorry, I don’t know your surname?”  
“Emerson”  
“Mister Emerson, though I must say congratulations on your earlier performance, I must also insist that you leave the aurors to their job, this is not a child’s matter.”  
“I’m sorry” he said ignoring the comment entirely “I thought you just said Harry Potter cast the dark mark? Which would be utterly ridiculous as it’s Voldemort’s” their was a visible flinch “mark” he continued, completely ignoring the reaction to Voldemort’s name “and isn’t it Mr Potter and his friends here who have fought him time and time again? So yeah, to blame Harry for this is simply grasping at non existent straws.”  
There was silence as he finished, everybody surprised that someone so ‘young’ could have such a powerful voice and reasonable arguments.  
“Y-Yes, I suppose that makes sense” stammered one of the ministry officials.  
“Yes, it make perfect sense, thank you very much Robert, so I suggest that instead of gawking at me like you’ve lost all the bones in your jaw, I suggest that you let Mr Weasley take his charges back to their tent, and search the woods in case one of your stunning spells hit the real culprit.” He said firmly, fore trudging through the centre of the circle and out the other side. Realising no one had moved, he called backwards, “Harry! Ron! Hermione! Mr Weasley! Get moving, I imagine the rest of your extensive party will be wondering where you got to!” This seemed to spur everyone into action, as they all quickly dispersed after that.  
The trio, plus Mr Weasley and Merlin trudged on in amicable silence for a few minuets until Merlin decided to ask “So, how did the troublesome trio end up in a pinch this time?”  
“Hey! We are NOT troublesome!” Said Ron emphatically.  
“Past events imply otherwise, but that’s not what I asked.”  
“We we’re leaving the campsite via the woods, and as we were going, I was going to take out my wand, you know, just in case, then I realised it was missing, and then we heard somebody cast the dark mark, and then the ministry officials all apperated around us, and then we were arguing over wether we did it or not, then you rescued us... thanks, by the way.”  
“So your saying you still don’t have your wand?”  
“No.”  
Merlin just sighed, before pulling out his own ‘wand’ - in reality it was his shide staff, converted into wand form - and said “accio Harry’s wand!” Harry’s wand came flying out from the woods behind them and landed in Merlin’s outstretched hand; he then passed it to Harry, who gave him a grateful look for not making a fuss out of the situation.  
“You said you were leaving the campsite... any particular reason?”  
“Yeah, some ex-deatheaters decided to go on a rampage.”  
“Is everyone ok? What happened?”  
“Yeah, nobody dead as far as I know, and we were just going to sleep when Mr Weasley woke us up and then told us to go into the woods.”  
“Ok, I imagine the Aurors have sorted it out by now”  
They  
Merlin then decided to change the subject “So, do you three play quidditch?”  
“I’m gryffindor seeker, Ron’s not on the team, but we play with his brothers sometimes during the holidays, and Hermione couldn’t play to save her life... no offence, ‘mione, do you know which house you’ll be in at Hogwarts?”  
The sorting hat would let him choose as always... so either Gryffindor or Huffelpuff probably, “no, I don’t really know anything about the houses, to be honest, or how I’m going to be sorted, I tried to find it in a book, but it appears to be a sort of hush hush topic, if you know what I mean?”  
“Yeah, can’t say, sorry, but don’t worry, it’s not bad”  
Two minuets later, they exited the woods into the campsite, where the group headed towards the Weasley’s tent.  
“Your more than welcome to stay for cocoa if you want, Milo, but I understand if you need to be getting back to your parents.”  
“Both my parents are dead, I’ve been living with my uncle for four years, and he died recently, so I decided to come to Hogwarts, and I would love to join you for some cocoa!”  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Your welcome to stay at the burrow for the remainder of the holidays if you don’t want to go home, you can stay with us, Molly, that’s my wife, won’t mind in the slightest, and I’m sure the boys would love to have some Quidditch tips from the top of the top.”  
“That would be amazing, thank you Mr Weasley.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm alive! Plz don't kill me! Sorry the update took so long but I promise this story is still active!

“Welcome... To the burrow!” said Ron with a large flourish of his arm, almost hitting Milo in his excitement. The Weasley twins quickly stepped behind Milo, one of them hitting Ron on the back of his head playful, to which Ron replied with a whined "oh eff off you two!"  
  
“Do not worry Milo! Nobody shall harm you in our presence! Allow us to show you around your abode for the holidays!" "Yes, and do please ignore our brother, he does have a most uncivil tong at times.”  
  
“Shut up!”.  
  
“Point proven.”  
  
Milo just laughed at the twins antics, and followed them inside, where Mrs Weasley was berating Mr Weasley for not owling her to inform her of the safety of him and her children.  
  
Then Mrs Weasley saw Milo. “Who’s this?”  
  
“What? Oh, this is Milo, he's fourteen, we met him at the match, and, well... I’ll let him explain...” said Mr Weasley looking mildly flustered.  
  
“Hello, you must be Mrs Weasley, as your husband said, my name is Milo, my parents died along time ago” - really - “and so I've lived with my uncle Guias ever since, he home educated me, but he sadly passed this summer, so I've decided to go to Hogwarts, I was going to just go home until school starts, but then your husband kindly offered to let me stay here, but if it’s too much trouble, I’ll happily just go home.” He said quickly.  
  
"Oh!" Mrs Weasley appeared flustered for a second, before quickly saying “It’s no bother at all, I’ll get a third bed set up in the boys room after lunch, I presume you’ll want to share with your future dorm mates, after all?”  
  
“That sounds wonderful, thank you, Mrs Weasley.”  
  
Ten minuets of chatting later, Mrs Weasley disappeared into the kitchen with Milo, to cook lunch. Mrs Weasley had looked delighted when Milo offered to help cook, while the rest of the Weasleys looked less pleased, and Harry felt the same. They all wanted to get to know Milo, and he instead had opted to cook with Mrs Weasley.  
  
“Three-a-side quidditch in the orchard?” Suggested Harry, and the others agreed, so five minuets later, they found themselves flying around in the orchard tossing apples to each other, as using real quidditch balls would be too risky in case one of them flew off to the near by muggle town.  
  
“So, what do you think of Milo, then?”  
  
“I think he’s great! He’s so good at quidditch!”  
  
Hermione just sighed, “you cant judge someone purely off their quidditch skills, Ron, look at Malfoy!  
  
“Wh- I wasn’t! He-“  
  
“Well, I think he seems nice enough, and as far as I've seen, he doesn’t let his skills go to his head.”  
  
“I agree with Harry, he seems genuine, and intelligent, I wonder what house he’ll be in?"  
  
“As long as he’s not Slytherin, I don’t care!”  
  
“Don’t be an ass, Ronald, there’s nothing wrong with being a Slytherin.”  
  
“Slytherins are slimy gits and you know it Hermione, so stop defending them.”  
  
“I wonder if he likes pranks?”  
  
“Yes, if even Hermione thinks he’s intelligent -“  
  
“- Just imagine the mischief we could -“  
  
“- create!”  
  
Just then, Milo came into the orchard “Pranks, a?”  
  
“Yes, we are-“  
  
“-the masters!”  
  
“You wanna bet on that? I doubt you two could out prank me if your lives depended on it.”  
“Your on” the twins said in unison.  
  
“Great! Let’s agree on some rules after lunch, but for now, it’s time to eat!” He said before turning around and going back inside, leaving the twins slightly stunned, then again, he had no way to know about their pranking ability.  
  
Lunch was Harry’s favourite meal of Mrs Weasley’s - onion soup, with freshly baked bread.  
  
She quickly poured a couple of ladles into everyone’s bowl, except Harry and Milo, who both got four ladles each, as they were “far too thin”.  
  
Once lunch was finished, Mrs Weasley sent them all upstairs, telling Milo that he should get to know them, not help her with the clearing up, as he had offered.  
  
“Do you three want to be part of the prank-off?” Harry and Ron had said yes immediately, Hermione, however, needed a bit of persuasion, but she eventually agreed as well, so they went with Milo and the twins to lay out some ground rules.  
  
“I think we should have the rest of the summer to plan, and the execute them at Hogwarts, if Fred and gorge take the train, I’ll take the opening feast, and do you three want to take first lessons of the year, I don’t want to prank your parents after they’ve been so nice as to let me stay with you, but I’ll happily prank at Hogwarts...”  
  
“I agree” said Hermione.  
  
“Me too” agreed harry  
  
As soon as the rest were on board, Hermione, being Hermione, began with the rules, immediatly “What rules do we want? Obviously nothing harmful, and nothing too mean.”  
  
“I agree, are there any other rules we need?”  
  
“We don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”  
  
Milo jotted it down on the parchment he was making notes on.  
  
“We have a problem, though, Harry, Ron, and I aren’t allowed to do magic outside of school, and neither are you Milo, only the twins are old enough.”  
  
“Well, I can, as I’ve not yet been told that rule” he said with a wink, and Harry grinned, “So do you three want to team up with me?”  
  
“How are we going to do it without being able to set up in advance, though?”  
  
“You’ll think of something, I’m sure, o’ mighty pranksters” said Milo with a laugh.  
  
“Shall we go and plan?” Asked Ron eagerly.  
  
“Sure, I actually think that I should go home and get some things, I don’t have any cloths but the ones I’m wearing, currently, let alone all of the things we will need to pull off a prank that will go down in history! Would you three like to come and help me gather supplies, not that we can’t go back at any time, but I just feel it would be good to get started ASAP.”  
  
“Yeah! Cool! I bet you have loads of quidditch stuff! But I’ll have to ask mum first...”  
  
“Sure, I’ll wait for you, you can’t come through the floo without me, anyway, due to the wards.”  
  
They all went down stairs, where Milo quickly asked if he could pop back to his to get essentials, plus some things he would want to take to Hogwarts, to which Mrs Weasley quickly agreed, “also, Mrs Weasley, I’ve told Harry, Ron, and Hermione that they are more than welcome to come and look around my house, while I gather what I need, my uncle had a great deal of books, which I’m sure would fascinate Hermione, while I’m sure the boys would rather enjoy my quidditch things, but, if you do not wish them to come, I can more than understand.”  
  
“Please, mum! I really want to see his quidditch things!” Asked Ron in a manner very that very much reminded Harry of Dudley, when he wanted something his parents wouldn't let him have.  
  
“Very well, on one condition, that I may come with you, I do not trust four teenagers to be left alone in a strange place.”  
  
“But MUM...”  
  
“No, I have stated my terms, it is that or nothing at all”  
  
“I agree with your mum, Ron, for all she knows I could be a mass murderer, I’m not, but she has every right to be worried.” Then to Mrs Weasley he said “I’ve got nothing against you coming, are you connected to the floo, here, Mrs Weasley?”  
  
“Yes, i assume you are familiar with how to use it?”  
  
“I am, I will bring each of you through separately, the wards will stop you from entering unless you are with a member of the family.”  
  
“I’ll go first, and wait for you children on the other side” said Mrs Weasley firmly.  
  
Harry watched as Milo threw a powder into the flames, and called taigh dràgō - which, Harry decided, was a very strange name for a building.  
  
“What do you think his house will be like?”  
  
“I don’t know, but he said his uncle had lots of books, so that could be interesting, i mean - ”  
  
At that moment Milo came back through “who next?”  
  
“I’ll go” volunteered Harry, much to the disappointment of Ron, who wanted to go through as soon as possible.  
  
Harry felt the strange sensation of traveling via floo, before he came out in to a tall, square, room, with a large set of double doors on one wall, and a regular sized door on the opposite wall, the room had a rich red carpet, a crackling fire, which they had just come out of, and several comfortable looking couches - this must be the sitting room, he deduced, though the large double doors did make him suspicious that this may just be an entrance chamber, it was clear anyhow that Milo’s family was well off, nothing in the room looked particularly cheap, not that it looked expensive, per say, just not poor. Harry’s thoughts were broken off by Milo, though, “feel free to sit down, but don’t leave the room yet.” Was all he said before he flooed back to the burrow to get Ron and Hermione.  
  
Ron came next, then Hermione afterward, and as soon as they were all through, Milo asked them all to sit down, much to the charging of Ron, who just wanted to get straight to the quidditch things.  
  
“Before I give you the tour, I’m gonna tell you the rules.”  
  
“What?! I thought you owned the place now that your uncle’s dead!”  
  
“Ron!”  
  
Milo just laughed “I do, Ron, and there still rules.” Ron groaned, and Milo just rolled his eyes “Ron, I know about as little about you as you know of me, so I think that it’s fair, don’t you?”  
  
But Mrs Weasley answered before Ron got the chance to argue “Yes, that’s perfectly fine, dear, what are the rules?”  
  
Milo grinned at her, before saying more seriously “No one is to go into the basement under any circumstances, the greenhouses third from the right and second from the left both contain dangerous plants, for those who do not know what they are doing, keep out of the stables unless you are with me, and the brooms in the back room of the broom shed are not safe to ride. Also, don’t touch the potions in the potions lab, most are safe, but a couple are volatile, and i would really rather not have to visit st mungos today if I can help it” He reeled off, “other than that, if you break something, just tell me or one of the house elves, or if you want to keep something, just ask, don't try to steal, and the worst that’ll happen is you’ll be told no, but most stuff will be a yes.”  
  
“What’s in the basement?” Harry was, he had to admit, vey curios as to what the boy could possibly have that he was so adamant to keep from them.  
  
“Personal items, family treasures, things from my uncle...” Harry noticed a sad glint that was not usually there, come into his eyes.  
  
Ron, being his usual oblivious self, quickly broke the moment, though, by saying “you have house elves? Just how bloody rich are you? And when can we see the quidditch stuff?”  
  
Milo just laughed, “Come on, I’ll show you around” he quickly stepped through the smaller door, closely followed by four curious guests.  
  
As soon as Harry stepped through the door, his jaw dropped. They were in a huge circular room, that would probably fit the entirety of the great hall into it, it wast fairly empty, but, running up the wall in a huge spiral was a staircase, which stopped at at three landings, each of which ran the circumference of the room. On the ceiling, there was a stunning glass chandelier, that looked like it might have real candles in it, and on the polished wooden floor, there was a still image of two huge dragons, circling each other in what looked to Harry, like a game, there was a green one, and a pure white one. Around the walls there were four doors, and Harry couldn’t see about the higher floors, but he assumed it was similar.  
  
Harry looked at the others, who were also apparently gobsmacked at the beauty of the place. Milo was just grinning “I had the same reaction when I first came here, shall we start the tour?”  
  
Ron, who had probably never seen so much luxury in his life, just nodded dumbly.  
  
Milo didn’t go into most of the rooms, just stated their purpose as they went past. The two doors to the left and right of the door they had come from were a portrait hall and a ball room and dining hall, apparently there had not been any balls for a long time, but a long time ago, when the place was built there had been quite a lot. The door directly opposite the one they had come out of, lead to a corridor with doors running up either side, which was apparently guest bedrooms, as were most of the corridors that spread to either side. When they reached the end of the corridor, Milo said that the large doors lead to the grounds, but that he’d show them upstairs first.  
  
The mezzanine that was the second floor was on the same level as the bottom half of the chandelier, which was just as staggering as from below. Around the walls, there were there were three doors, which apparently all went into the library, and there were two corridors that came directly into the room without any doors, these contained a large list of rooms, everything from a potions lab to a kitchen was located in these rooms including a small private dining room that was used when there were no guests, instead of the large ostentatious one that lay downstairs.  
  
Milo didn’t even bother taking them to the third floor, saying it was just his uncle’s private study, and a few bedrooms. He then took them all downstairs, and into the garden, where he just pointed at a distance at all the different things, “greenhouses are over there, remember, stay out of second from the left and third from the right, stables are just around the corner, as are the main gates to the place, quidditch pitch is over there, brooms and uniforms are in the sheds that are over there, vegetable patch and meat and dairy farms are over there, and potions patch is just next to the greenhouses. I’m now going to go grab my stuff, Minnow! Oaky! Lavender!” Three house elves wearing beautiful red robes, each with a golden dragon crest on them, popped right next to Milo, who instructed them to get Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs Weasley what they wanted and help the if they got lost.  
  
Harry and Ron quickly asked Minnow to show them to the quidditch pitch, whilst Hermione went to the library tailed by Lavender, and Mrs Weasley went to the private dining room for a cup of tea with Oaky  
  
“This guy is bloody rich! Like, I doubt even the Malfoys are this rich! Do you think he’ll let me keep a firebolt? I mean he has to have one, right?”  
  
Harry just let Ron ramble on, but he wasn’t really listening, who was this guy? He felt like Milo was leaving something out when he said why they weren’t allowed in the basement, sure, he may not want them to touch his family heirlooms, but under no circumstances? That is surely a little extreme, just to keep them away from his heirlooms, and he seemed to know too much about them - he was sure nobody had told him Hermione was a book worm, for example, but Milo also hadn’t done anything to make them think of him as an enemy, so Harry decided that he would just keep an eye on him, but not say anything yet.  
  
When they reached the quidditch pitch, Minnow showed them to the broom shed well, in reality it was more of a broom room, there were brooms, all along the walls, and in baskets by the door. There were benches in the corners, and doors on all four walls.  
  
“Master says you can’t go in that room, because the brooms are not safe!” Squeaked Minnow, making Harry and Ron jump. “The side rooms are changing rooms, and you can use any of the brooms! Many of them are made by Master Milo’s uncle and grandpa!”  
  
Ten minuets later, they were each in a pair of quidditch robes, which Minnow had given them, and were choosing their brooms. They were both slightly dubious about riding something that was not professionally made, but Minnow assured them that they were all safe, so they ended up choosing three brooms each to test, and, with the help of Minnow, took them all out onto the field to try.  
  
They each picked a broom and flew up into the pitch. Harry had never felt a faster, smoother, or easier to manoeuvre broom, compared to this, his firebolt was no better than a rusty stick with a bunch of twigs stuck on the end. Once Harry was up in the middle of the pitch, he stopped, and just looked around at the grounds. He could see house elves tending to the vegetable patches, and the potions patches, he could see the stables, and the greenhouses. Harry then turned his attention to what he had assumed would be a Manor House, and his jaw dropped for the something-th time that day. It was not a Manor House, or even a mansion, is was a straight up castle, not a huge castle, not even half the size of Hogwarts, but still very large, and beautiful. It was made up of Harry guessed maybe thirty towers of varying heights and widths, stretching up into the sky, each made of the same golden-yellow stone. Harry looked over to Ron, who was clearly equally, if not more, awed by the splendour of the castle.  
  
Half an hour later, all six of the brooms they tested were faster than Harry’s firebolt, and easier to handle, although they did disagree as to which broom was the best, Harry liked the mahogany one, with a dragon coat of arms identical to the one on the house elves uniform, except silver not gold in color, but Ron liked a one in a rich dark oak, with golden swirls along the sides.  
They were arguing about it above the center of the pitch, when Milo flew up to them on a pale birch wood broom with a beautiful dark blue dragon crest on it. Milo just laughed when he heard what they were so reverently discussing. “The way my uncle described it is that when there is not a huge difference in quality, for instance, everybody would prefer a firebolt to a cleansweap, it comes down to personal preference, and how each individual broom interacts with your magic. For me, this is the best broom, and if you two each prefer a different broom it’s probably because they will just work better for you.”  
  
Harry and Ron were just looking slightly confused - “so like with wands?”  
  
“Basically, although not as extreme, anyway, we should probably start prank planning, I’ve told Hermione we’d meet her in the library.”  
  
Harry was disappointed, he wanted to continue flying, but he agreed, and went to land “what are you doing?”  
  
“... landing and putting away this broom, and the quidditch robes...?”  
  
“Oh, ok, I assumed you would want to keep the broom, but you don’t have to, if you prefer your firebolt.”  
  
“Wait. We can’t KEEP these?” Ron looked gobsmacked, and Harry felt it - Milo was going to let them keep these brooms? They were surely precious and expensive.  
  
“How much?” Ron’s face fell when he realised they would probably have to pay, but then lit up again when Milo said they would not.  
  
“Come on!” Said Milo before turning around and zooming off in the direction of the castle. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance before happily giving chase, and coming to a halt on the library balcony, next to Milo.  
  
They quickly found Hermione immersed in a large stack of books about wandless magic, which was just so typical Hermione that Harry couldn’t help but laugh internally. Milo asked Minnow, who had apparated ahead to meet them in the library, to inform Mrs Weasley that they were all in the library, if she wanted to find them, and then to go back to the kitchens, and he also dismissed Lavender, saying that he would call again if he needed her.  
  
It was almost eleven o’clock before Mrs Weasley bustled into the library to find all four children in deep discussion with several books open around them at the table.  
  
“I think we ought to be getting back now, all of you, it’s nearly eleven o’clock, and your father, Ron, will probably be getting worried.  
  
Harry was surprised to hear that it was so late, and realised he was getting tired.  
  
“Okay, let’s go back to the entry chamber, and we can floo out again.”  
  
Ten minuets later, they were all happily drinking coca around the fire in the burrow.  
  
As they were getting ready for bed, Ron let out a massive groan, “what’s wrong?”  
  
“I’ve just realised how horrible this place is compared with what your used to - you must hate it!”  
  
Milo laughed “where I lived with my mum consisted of two rooms, one bed, no floor, and a very draughty roof - my mum took the bed, and we always grew our own food, on a good year we were lucky to get three meals a week in the winter - believe me, this is luxury compared to that.” He then lay down and closed his eyes, leaving Harry and Ron staring at him, mouths wide open.  
  
Milo was poor during his childhood? He wouldn’t have guessed it, but then again, maybe that’s why he wasn’t as snobby as Malfoy. But his uncle definitely had enough money to share with his sibling, so why didn't he?  
  
When Harry awoke the next morning, Milo was gone, and Ron was still asleep - he looked at his clock - eight, Harry sighed, he wouldn’t get back to sleep now, so instead he decided to get up, and find out where Milo had gone off to. He got out of bed, got dressed, and strolled downstairs at a fairly leisurely pace.  
  
When he got there, he found that Ginny, and Mr and Mrs Weasley were already up too, but he couldn’t see Milo anywhere “he’s in the orchard” said Mrs Weasley, predicting what he was going to ask. Harry nodded, went outside, and headed towards the small patch of trees that was often used for three a side quidditch with the Weasleys. When he found Milo, he was in the middle of the clearing, sitting cross legged with his eyes gently shut - meditating - Harry was about to leave when Milo said “feel free to join me - it’s most relaxing, you know” without even opening his eyes.  
  
“Wh-What? How did you know I was there?”  
  
Milo opened his eyes and stretched out his legs “when you meditate, your sensual awareness increases, and you also get a sort of sixth sense, like you can tell where things are and when they move” at Harry’s confused look, he added “why don’t you feel it for yourself?”  
  
Harry shrugged - why not? So he sat down cross legged and closed his eyes “What now?” Milo laughed - Harry looked at him, slightly offended “What? How am I supposed to know what to do?”  
  
“No, I’m not laughing at you, you just remind me of someone in my village growing up, who wanted to learn with me - my mum taught me, you see - they said something very similar.”  
  
Harry shrugged again, before closing his eyes, “you have to look in first, before you look out, I’ll take you through the first meditation my mum taught me.” Harry nodded, but then realising that Milo probably had his eyes closed too, he agreed out loud: “okay”.  
  
“Focus on your toes, don’t move them, just feel them, feel deep inside them...”  
  
“Now gently open your eyes, don’t move yet, it’ll be bright, and if you get up to quickly you might get dizzy.” Milo warned as they finished their meditation, having progressively ‘felt’ each part of the body. Harry did so, and immediately found that Milo was not joking when he said it would be bright, he had to blink a few times before he stopped seeing spots, and it took him even longer before his vision completely cleared. “How do you feel?”  
  
“Wow. That was amazing. I feel like I’m so much more alive than before, almost like I weigh half as much!”  
  
Milo grinned “ i know, it’s amazing! And the more you do it, the better it gets, especially when you learn to reach out with your sixth sense, which i always like to think is your magic, but I don’t know, it really helps with quidditch as well, if you can sense your surroundings!”  
  
“I thought you can only sense your surroundings when your meditating?”  
  
“It’s strongest when you meditate, but once you do it enough, you start to sort of do it instinctively, even when you aren’t meditating.”  
  
“Ok, we should probably go back inside, breakfast will probably be fairly soon.” Milo nodded, and slowly stood up, followed by Harry.  
  
Breakfast was a huge pile of American pancakes drizzled with maple syrup, which was absolutely delicious.  
  
“Quick round of quidditch before we go back to planning?” Asked Fred once Mrs Weasley had gone into the kitchen to do the washing up.  
  
“Sure, we can go to mine, if you want to use real balls?”  
  
“Ok, sure, also-“  
  
“-when did you guys get back from yours-“  
  
“-yesterday?-”  
  
“-it must have been late-“  
  
“-because we were asleep-“  
  
“-when you got back.”  
  
“We got back at around eleven, we were very busy planning, you see, but if you want a game of quidditch, you’d better tell your parents where you are, we should probably also invite Ginny.”  
  
Fred and George nodded, and went into the kitchen, to ask permission to go, and Ron, albeit grudgingly, went to get Ginny. As soon as they all had permission, Milo flooed them through, Harry and Ron with their brooms, and sat down in the entrance chamber like before, to go over the rules with Fred, Gorge, and Ginny, adding this time, that there were wards set up, that had been passed to him upon his uncles death that informed him if anyone went into the basement. He didn’t, however, bother giving them the tour, as ‘they wouldn’t be here as often as the others’.  
  
After the twins and Ginny had stopped gawking at the grandeur, Milo lead them all to the quidditch pitch, this time with Hermione too, and they all got into quidditch robes. “Minnow!” Crack.  
  
“Yes, Master Milo?”  
  
“Can you take out all the brooms for these four to try?”  
  
“Yes Master!” Despite it being less than a minuet, by the time they exited the broom room, all the brooms were lined up along the side of the pitch, ready for testing.  
  
Half an hour later, Fred, Gorge, Ginny, and Hermione, all had the perfect brooms for them. Milo then brought out a quidditch set “three-a-side and I’ll ref?”  
  
“Sure, if your ok with that!”  
  
They ended up playing for about an hour before Fred and George decided that they needed to get back to planning, and Harry and Ron agreed, so while Milo took the twins and Ginny back to the burrow, Harry went with Ron and Hermione to the library, entering through the balcony again, and found that the table they had been using the day before had been tidied, the books were previously strewn haphazardly all, over the table, were now stacked neatly, in categories, with bookmarks in the correct places, and there was even a tray with four hot chocolates and a plate of biscuits on it.  
  
The trio sat down, each taking a hot chocolate “it’s odd, isn’t it.”  
  
“What’s odd, Harry?”  
“Milo. We meet him at the World Cup for the first time, and he just so happens to be the best player at the whole cup, and then he gets us out of trouble, now suddenly we trust him enough to be alone in his house, I mean, for all we know, he could be working for Voldemort! He was right when he said he doesn’t know anything about us" "Mmm" said Hermione thoughtfully, but Harry was quick to continue. "and we don’t really know anything about him, also, he just seems to know everything we want to know, and have all the solutions, you know, just seems slightly odd. I mean, have you noticed how he seems to know everything about us already, like how he knew Hermione was a book worm? I’m pretty sure we never told him that. And why has he not told us anything about himself, he gives us random facts and never goes into detail, I'm kind of suspicious"  
  
“Harry, your just being paranoid! He gave us free brooms, for God’s sake!”  
  
“And why would he do that, except to gain our trust? People don’t just do that sort of thing!”  
  
“Maybe Harry’s right, Ron, but we shouldn’t be too quick to judge, Harry, he hasn’t done anything yet, I think we should keep an eye on him, and maybe see if we can get him to open up a bit.”  
  
Harry reluctantly nodded, and Ron also agreed, with a heavy roll of his eyes.  
  
“Have you two done your summer assignments yet?” Harry and Ron groaned, at the less than subtle change of subject.  
  
“I’ve made a start.”  
  
“Me too...”  
  
“Really Ron, I’m not convinced.”  
  
“Oh alright fine, I’ve not started - but I’ll do it! I promise!”  
  
“You guys have summer work? Do you think I should do it too? you know, create a good impression.” Asked Milo, walking in from one of the doors that lead inside.  
  
“I think thats a great idea!” This earned another groan from Ron and Harry, another Hermione? Wasn’t one enough?  
  
Milo laughed at their groan “why don’t we just do it all today, and then we have the rest of the holidays free, I’m sure we can find everything we need in here.”  
  
They all, albeit grudgingly in some cases, and ecstatically in others, agreed, and Hermione went with Milo back to the burrow to find the list of assignments, leaving Harry and Ron alone again.  
“He certainly trusts us, otherwise he wouldn’t leave us alone so much, I mean, don’t bad guys usually assume you're as evil as them and not trust you at all?” Asked Ron, clearly once more trying to persuade Harry that Milo wasn't suspicious.  
  
“I suppose; I just feel like he’s hiding something though, something big.”  
  
“Everyone’s entitled to their secrets Harry, Milo’s no different.” Harry laughed - he sounded so much like Hermione!  
  
“What?”  
  
“You were afraid of having two Hermione’s?! Well I think you may be turning into a third!”  
  
Ron’s ears went pink - “No I’m not!” This just made Harry laugh even harder. At that moment Milo and Hermione came back in, with the list of assignments, and, looked at each other, confused.  
  
By the time they reached the table, though, Harry had regained his posture.  
  
“Do I want to know?” asked Milo sceptically.  
  
“No,” said Harry and Ron in unison. Milo just rolled his eyes and sat down at the table, grabbing his own hot chocolate and a biscuit.  
  
“So, what homework should we do first?”  
  
“Potions, let’s get that out of the way.”  
  
“Why would you want to get potions out of the way? Potions is fun!”  
  
“Potions is horrible, our teacher, Professor Snape is a greasy git who intentionally picks on Griffindors and favors the Slytherins.”  
  
“So it’s not potions you hate, it’s the teacher.”  
  
“Whatever, it’s still the worst subject.”  
  
Milo just rolled his eyes and said “well why don’t we go down to the lab later, and make some more fun potions... maybe you’ll even enjoy it!”  
v “Ok, whatever.” Harry was sceptical, but maybe Milo was right about it just being Snape that made brewing so horrible...  
v Three and a half hours later, they had all finished their homework, and Milo, like Hermione, had written in tiny handwriting, and still somehow completed the assigned amount of parchment for every piece of work. They then spent half an hour checking, and then, with a lot of persuasion from Milo, had gone to the brewing room to make some fun potions.  
v When they finally finished, they were all grinning brightly - Milo was right - that was fun. They had made three different potions in total - one, you could drip onto food to make it taste like chocolate “it doesn’t actually make it into chocolate, though, so don’t try to use it on non food items, but it’s really good for making a less pleasant meal tasty,” the second potion they made was designed to be mixed with shampoo to make ones hair change slowly color throughout the day, until it finally reached a bright pink - definitely one for Fred and George - Ron decided - and the final potion they made was one that if smelt made the victim think that everything was just five inches to the right, so that they would bang into things - it was particularly funny watching Ron - who was already rather clumsy - take a sniff - he couldn’t even make it to the door and back reliably, luckily for him, though, Milo had been brewing the antidote at the same time as helping them - how he managed that without messing up, Harry didn’t know.  
v By the time all the potions bottled up ready for use, and the supplies and cauldrons cleaned and put away, it was coming on six o’clock “maybe we should head back to yours, Ron, after all, it’ll probably be dinner fairly soon, and we don’t want your parents to think I’ve kidnapped you.”  
  
“Sure, I’m hungry!”  
  
“Your always hungry, Ron” Ron looked indignant, but, after a minuet, just shrugged in agreement.  
  
Ten minuets later, they were all sitting around the kitchen table in the burrow, happily munching on a roast chicken, and talking about all things quidditch.  
  
The next week passed with a very similar routine each day, go to Milo’s, play quidditch, plan their prank, come back to the burrow. However about a week before the start of school, Mrs Weasley announced that "tomorrow is our Diagon alley trip, you all need to get your school supplies.”  
  
They agreed, so the next day Mrs Weasley woke everybody (other than Harry and Milo, who were meditating in the orchard already) at nine o’clock, and quickly bustled them all into the burrow’s fireplace. Milo went first, then went Ron, then Harry, followed finally by the twins, Ginny, and finally their parents.  
  
As soon as they were all through into the street, they hurried to Gringots, and each went to their respective vaults. When they were all out, they split into two groups, Milo, and the trio went with Mrs Weasley, and the twins plus Ginny went with Mr Weasley, who had managed to get the day off work.  
  
Harry’s group went to flourish and blots first, then eyelopes for more owl treats, and then Madam Malkins for school robes for Milo, and dress robes for all of them.  
  
They spent the rest of the day picking up the rest of their school supplies, and even stopping in Florine Fortescue’s ice-cream parlour for a snack.  
  
By the time they got back to the burrow, it was nearly two o’clock, and time for lunch, which was a very large picnic made by Mrs Weasley, and eaten by everyone in the orchard.  
  
One week later, not only was the prank to be performed by the trio and Milo ready, but it was also time to leave for Hogwarts, which was a lot less panicked than usual, as Milo had insisted on them all packing a full three days early, meaning that they were all ready when they needed to leave.


	7. Quick Questionnaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, not actually a chapter (sorry to disappoint), but I'm struggling with a few key decisions as to where i want this story to go, so i just wanted to see what you lot think? XD

(1) Should i bring Arthur back from the depths of Avalon or not?

(2) Should this story contain Merthur or not? (either way it wont be a big part of the plot, and the answer to (1) doesn't affect whether it can be present or not :D) 

(3) When should the trio find out the identity of Merlin, soon, in the middle, at the end, or never?

(4) If the trio end up knowing, should they find out, work it out, or be told?

(5) What house should Merlin be in?

(6) How well should Merlin do at Hogwarts? prodigy? class idiot? average?

(7) Are Kilgarah and/or Aithusia still alive?

(8) do you prefer more regular but shorter updates, or longer, more spread apart ones, or somewhere in between?

(9) Is there anything you really want to see happen? (no guarantees, but I'm always open to suggestions :D)

Most of these things will not be relevant for a few chapters, so you can always change your mind, and I'm always open to suggestions of where to go with the plot :) I know some people don't like prompts, but I ain't one of the XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks a million!


	8. Chapter 7

Merlin quickly followed Harry through the barrier, and onto platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts express was shining and whistling out stream as it always was, and had been, ever since he and Salazar had first built it. He gave a small, nostalgic smile and quickly hurried after Harry to find a compartment before they were all full.

From the moment he'd first stepped onto the platform, eyes had followed him in a way none had done since he was first named the court sorcerer of Queen Guinevere's court, probably, he reasoned, due to the World Cup. When he did finally manage to get into an apartment with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they shut the door, because what with both him and Harry in the compartment, there was an almost constant stream of people goggling into their compartment as they walked passed more times than was probably necessary.

Ten minuets later, the train began moving, the steady rhythm of the wheels on the track gently pulling him into a slight daze, the distant sound of chatter from other compartments creating a warm haze. Nobody in their compartment was talking, for some reason, but it didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, quite the opposite, in fact, everybody was just calm, and nobody seemed to notice or care about the people looking into their compartment.

After an unknown unit of time passing, an old lady came to the door, knocking and asking if they wanted sweets, which snapped everybody out of the trance like state that they were in, and Merlin was quick to buy a handful of everything off the trolley, and pile it onto the seats of the compartment.

"I wonder what Fred and George's prank is gonna be?"

"I dunno, but I bet it's not as good as ours."

Merlin smirked, no Fred and George would almost certainly not be able to beat their prank, after all, they didn't have a millennium and a half year old incredibly powerful warlock, who had once been best friends with Sir Gawain of Camelot, on their side, but the trio did. "Well, if it is better than ours, I think I'll have to give them joke shop start up funds, don't you?"

"Oh god, mum would kill you! You'd never be allowed 'round ours again!"

Merlin laughed "we'll see"

"Well, from what we've seen of the twins, they're masterful pranksters, I imagine whatever they do will be epic."

They continued chatting about the pranks for about ten minuets, before talk turned to Hogwarts, Merlin asking random questions, and pretending to be interested and excited, after all, he probably knew the school and its ghosts better than all of them put together, the only thing he didn't know was the teachers. After all, he'd known most of the ghosts during their lifetimes, and he'd been the mentor of the founders of the school, Rowena, Godric, Helga, and Salazar.

Suddenly, there was a loud roar from somewhere down the train, making them all jump. "Well, looks like Fred and George have finally set off their prank, ay?"

"Yeah, sounds big."

Screams could be heard all the way up and down the train. Merlin stuck his head out of the compartment door, looking up he could see other people doing the same, but looking in the other direction he could see a large dragon, made entirely of rainbow sparks, shooting colourful fire, also made of sparks.

As soon as it was clear that it wasn't going harm anyone or anything, he went back into the compartment. "It's a giant dragon made of rainbow sparks, not harmful, but pretty cool, you were right, Ron, they did go for showy."

"Yeah, it's just most like them, subtle really isn't their style."

"So I gathered."

After about ten more minuets, people realised the dragon wasn't going on to hurt them, and started playing with it, tossing it 'meat' which was in reality just made of sparks, and daring each other to run through it and such, all in all, not a bad prank in the slightest, fun, a shock and good magic.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in ten minuets, please leave your luggage in the train, it will be taken to the dormitories separately." The voice of the train driver rand out throughout the compartment.

"Oh god! We'd better get into our robes." Hermione turned around while the boys changed quickly, and then they looked away while she did the same, and with that done, Merlin quickly pulled the 'prank bag' out of his trunk, saying 'reducio' as he did so, shrinking the bag and putting into his pocket, after all, they would be needing it during the feast, would they not?

Once that was done, they all piled out of the compartment towards the train doors, so that they would be able to get out first, and thus be in the first carriages and be able to get the seats closest to the doors of the great hall, which is what they needed to set off their prank, after, of course, Merlin was sorted.

He still hadn't decided which house he wanted to be in, the sorting hat would, as per usual, let him decide. 

He was sure Ron and Harry would be very disgruntled if he were to be put into slytherin, and Hermione would not be overjoyed, though he doubted she would mind too much, he might even be able to help break the house boundaries between them, but the Slytherin were also mostly blood purists, which he firmly disliked.

Hufflepuff was the house he usually chose, because he liked the caring and loyal nature of the students there, but he had promised the other house ghosts that he would go in each of the other houses at least once now and again, because ever since they found out that he could chose his house, they were annoyed that he spent so much time in Hufflepuff.

Ravenclaw was probably his least favourite house, due to the fact that everyone was always so serious about their studies, and constantly sharing new information and it meant that there was not a whole lot of room for just enjoying ones self, not that it was completely strict, Ravenclaws did definitely know how to have fun, it was just not quite as lively as the others on a day to day basis. 

And then their was Gryffindor. He liked Gryffindor, the entire place reminded him of Camelot, and its student's the daring knights, but he didn't particularly want to be in the same house as Harry, purely for the reason that he needed to be able to grow on his own, without Merlin, and that if they were in the same house Merlin would likely find himself guiding Harry through every little thing. That and also it would be harder to keep his identity a secret, after all, they were a curious bunch, and he was pretty sure Harry already suspected something was up.

Merlin sighed. It looked like he'd already made up his mind.

Ten minuets later, Merlin split off from the trio, after giving Hermione the prank bag, so that he could go across the lake with the first years before the sorting ceremony.

He smiled at the looks of pure wonder on the faces of the first years as they saw Hogwarts for the first time, he still remembered building the place with the founders, the amount of magic it had taken him to build had left him unconscious for a month, which, given his enormous ocean of power, was saying something.

After the small delay caused by Dennis Creevy, a boy from Merlin's boat, falling into the lake, they soon reached the double doors that Merlin knew lead to the entrance hall of the school, and were greeted by a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes. She had a very stern face and a neat black wizards hat. Professor McGonagall, he deduced, just as Haggrid said "The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall"

She lead them quickly into a room next to the large doors of the great hall, and told them that she would be back shortly, and Merlin looked around at the first years, they all looked really excited, and really nervous, and they all jumped about a foot in the air when about twenty pearly white, semi-transparent ghosts floated through the wall, chatting excitedly about the upcoming year. They didn't seem to notice the first years and Merlin until they were about half way across the room, when they suddenly stopped, and looked around at them, each and every pair of eyes eventually landing on Merlin, as they all recognised him from when he had been to the school previously.

"Milo Evans! I just transferred here this year, I'm going to be in fourth year." He said jovially, to make the students think that the only reason they were starring was that he was much taller that all of them. It also served the purpose of waking up the ghosts a bit, and reminding them that he wanted to keep a low profile, which they should really know by now, he grumbled internally.

After they had given their usual "I'm in XYZ house, hope to see you there speech, they exited the room through the wall which he knew to lead into the great hall, but not before giving him last glances, no doubt wondering which house he would choose this time. 

Not much time later, Professor McGonagall came back, telling them to line up with Merlin at the front, as he was to be sorted first. She marched them into the great hall, where Merlin pretended to look around in wonder and awe, before stoping before the sorting hat, in which a wide tear opened before the hat began to sing.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin. 

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began. 

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach. 

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition. 

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

Thunderous applause broke out as the hat bowed to each of the four tables before becoming still once again.

Once everybody had settled, Professor McGonagall announced "this year, we have a brand new transfer student,t o fourth year, Emerson, Milo." She lifted up the hat, gesturing for him to step up to be 'sorted'.

As Merlin quickly stepped up, he could easily hear the whispers that had broken out - 'is it that the guy from the cup?' - 'Yeah! Moran's substitute!' - 'D'ya fink e'll play for 'is 'ouse team?' but the whispers were drowned out as soon as he put on the hat, which sat comfortably upon his prominent ears.

"Hello again!" The hat jumped off his head with surprise when he realised it was Merlin, and was only saved falling on the floor due to Merlin catching with a laugh, it before it could land, and placing it back on his head.

"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting to see you for a while yet, after all, last time we talked, you said you wanted to travel the world!"

"My friend, you've lost track of time! That was almost a century ago!"

Merlin could tell that if the hat had eyes, they would have widened at this, Merlin laughed at the image, and lowered his mental barriers just enough for the hat to be able to look through the memories of his travels.

After a few minuets, Merlin realised that he should probably just tell the hat his house of choice, before they broke the record for longest sorting again - ten minuets and thirty-two point six seconds, which he had set in the year 1215, due to a rather interesting discussion with the hat about the Magna Carta.

"You should probably sort me, you know, we don't want to break our ten point three two point six record, now, do we?" he said with an laugh out loud.

"Right, I suppose not, so what will it be this time?" 

Merlin told the hat his choice.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table in green was silent for a second before erupting into screams and cheers of excitement. Merlin looked over at the Gryffindor table, where Ron and Harry looked furious, and Hermione looked resigned. He caught her eye, and gave her the signal they had planned, for checking if the prank was in place, in case he was in a different house, to which she responded with the 'all good' signal, before turning back to Gryffindor.

Merlin slid his eyes up and down the table, and chose to sit with who he assumed were the fourth years, as they looked about the right age. Once the sorting was over, and Dumbledore had given his speech ("Nitwit. Oddment. Blubber. Tweak.") Merlin turned back to the people he was sitting with.

"Hi! My name is Milo Emerson, fourth year!"

"I'm Draco Malfoy, same year, and this is Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson." The snoby looking blond boy replied. "You have heard of the Malfoy family, haven't you, it would be rather embarrassing for you if you haven't, after all, we are very important in the ministry, and we know all the pureblood families, of course, though I have never heard of the Evans family - you are pureblood, aren't you?"

It took all of Merlin's willpower not to roll his eyes, this was the one really bad thing about Slytherin, their unwavering blood supremacy ideology. But, he did usually pretended to be pureblood, as it just made life easier for him, "Yes, and I must say it's rather embarrassing for you that you haven't heard of us."

"Anyway" cut across Blaise, clearly not liking where the discussion was going, "What was that with the hat, you kept laughing, and you were there for like five minuets! Plus the hat practically jumped off your head when McGonagall put it on you!" The other fourth years looked interested about what he was going to say, and he also noticed that a few older students had turned their heads slightly in his direction, obviously trying to hide the fact that they were listening to the conversation.

"Well, the reason it took so long was because apparently I am equal parts ambitious, brave, loyal, and intelligent, so the hat basically spent ages weighing out my different qualities looking for small inequalities, and eventually it decided that I was more ambitious than the other three."

"And why did it jump off your head?" Merlin just tapped the side of his nose secretively, before moving on to asking about the teachers and lessons, wanting to hear the opinions of his dorm mates on them, because he had already had the opinions of the trio, and had a feeling that they would be very different.

He was right, they were different.

When the last of the puddings were finally cleared away, Dumbledore gave the start of term notices, including announcing the cancellation of the interhouse quidditch tournament, to be replaced by the tri-wizard tournament, before telling them to head off to bed. The moment he had taken three steps away from the Slytherin table, Fed and George appeared on either side of him, grinning, much to the outrage of the other Slytherins, to which Merlin replied with an 'oh shut up you lot'. They clearly thought that the prank Merlin and the trio had made, hadn't worked.

But then the first person screamed as they flew thirty feet into the air, slowing to a 

gentle glide about ten feet from the ground, giving the students on the ground plenty of time to get out of the way so that the didn't get crushed, and also meaning that nobody landed hard enough to hurt themselves.

But before the first person had even reached the peak of their ark, about thirty more people had been launched into the air, the height of their bounce ranging from twenty five to thirty five feet, and more people were being bounced up every second. It didn't take long for everybody to realise that it was trying to leave the room via the great double doors was the cause of the issue, and the teachers, who had previously been trying in vein to get through the crowd, were finally able to reach the doors.

Whispers had broken out, everybody wondering who was responsible for the prank, and how they did it without being able to spend ages enchanting the door before hand. After a few minuets of trying, the teachers had been unable to remove the enchantment, which just caused the whispers to increase, and Fred and George to look highly impressed.

Merlin scanned the crowd for the trio, and spotting them, he quickly made his way over, ignoring the continued protests of the Slytherins. Once he finally reached them, he said "well, the twins seem impressed, so I think we won."

Ron just turned to him and spat "what are you doing here, you slimy Slytherin?"

Merlin sighed. "You realise, that until about an hour and a half ago, we were happily chatting about transfiguration on the train. All that's happened since then is that the hat has spent five minuets telling me I'm equal parts Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, with only minute and unnoticeable differences between the quality's. But you now hate me because I'm a tiny bit more ambitious than brave?"

Ron looked thoroughly chastised, but still angry, as did Harry, and Hermione looked almost pleased. "Also, you weren't wrong in saying Draco Malfoy is an arse, but hey! Maybe I can change that? I intend to try, anyhow."

Both Ron and Harry now looked less angry, but Harry still seemed suspicious. Merlin sighed. "Would it help to say I don't intend to be playing for the quidditch team? And I won't be giving super brooms to any bullies. Also, are you guys gonna try to enter the tournament?" At that moment he had felt a slight tug on his magic, and immediately understood what it meant. The old religion wanted him to enter, he'd probably be told more in his sleep that night, but all he did for now, was add "cuz I sure am gonna try!"

"No, I don't really want the attention."

"If Fred and George can get passed the age line, then I will be using their method." replied Ron with a grin.

"You three realise that people have died before in this tournament, you aren't nearly qualified to enter." Hermione huffed. Privately, Merlin disagreed. He was definitely qualified.

Ron now looked almost happy, Harry still suspicious though less so, and Hermione was a bit huffy. "I should probably get back the the Slytherins before they get suspicious, see ya 'round, though, yeah?" And with that he dodged and weaved back through the crowd until he reached the Slytherins again, but luckily, they had virtually forgotten he had left, what with the occasional person still flying through the air, and Dumbledore reaching his fifth minuet of being unable to remove the enchantment.

Eventually the students were told to leave via the side doors to the hall, and first years plus Milo to follow their house prefects to their dormitories, and that this would be solved by the morning.

"This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room, the password is 'pureblood' do not forget it." He lead them into the room. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and around the room were several comfortable looking black leather sofas, which looked brand new, and Merlin remembered, probably were, after all, the Slytherin common room was the only one of the four rooms to be regularly updated to keep with the times. 

Not two minuets later, the whole house was standing in the common room, waiting, as the Slytherin prefect explained, for Snape's start of term announcement. Not a moment after this had been explained, Snape walked in, and began his talk without hesitation.

"First years, and Milo, welcome to Slytherin. You are expected to show unity with your house. This includes eating at your house table, supporting the Slytherin quidditch team, when the cup is back on, and most importantly, keeping any disagreements with your housemates in the common room. I also expect that every snake will always be on their best behaviour, any rule breaking is taken very seriously, however, feel free to come and see me about anything, big or small, I am here to support you, my office is open to you at all hours. Now, all of you go to bed, you need to be wide awake tomorrow for your first lessons. And Milo, a word before you turn in."

"Yes, Sir." Merlin followed Snape out of the room, and down a few corridors, into his office. "Sir?"

"Now, Emerson, I know you are a celebrity, but that does not make you exempt from the rules, I expect you to be a model student, in the same way I expect all of my snakes to be model students, I also hope that you will be trying out for the house team?"

"No, Sir, I hadn't intended to try out for the team."

Snape sneered "we not good enough for you, Emerson?"

"No sir, not that, but you see, I made a promise to a friend that I wouldn't play for any of the house teams, so as to make it more fair, more, seeing as I expect that the Slytherin team is much better than any of the other teams anyway, I'm also not against coaching, but I won't play in any matches." 

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Very well. But I don't expect you to let your fame go to your head. I also expect that you will be able to keep up with the course work set by your teachers. Give me a brief overview of what you know."

Merlin had already decided when he did his summer assignments, that he would appear as a high average student, as apposed to playing the fool, which he often found amusing, but he also, as always decided not to play bad at potions, herbology, or care of magical creatures, as he felt it would insult the memories Gaius and the knights, after all how could you have fought virtually every magical creature on this earth, and then collected herbs and made cures for injuries sustained whilst fighting these creatures, and then pretend not to know the subjects. No. He would not insult his friends by feigning ignorance in everything they taught him.

So he began reciting the list he had earlier prepared for himself and the teachers.

"Well, Sir, in herbology I was just about to start on snargluff pods and the Madagascar tree, in transfiguration I have just finished studying switching spells, in potions I was studying poison antidotes and Glopalott's third law, for defence against the dark arts I just finished shielding spells and charms and was starting work on stunning spells, in charms I was just about to start work on summoning charms, and in care of magical creatures, I had finished unicorns and was just about to start on thestrals." He finished, breathing heavily. "Is that all the subjects, sir?"

"You have yet to mention ancient runes and arithmancy, which are you other electives along with care of magical creatures, were they not?" He seemed almost shocked when Merlin had mentioned his potions and herbology and care topics, as they were well above what most fourth years could do, in fact, not even seventh years studied the Madagascar tree.

"Yes, Sir, well, runes is something I have always been interested in sir, but I am not a prodigy by any stretch of the word, I have just begun translating the present perfect tense" at this, Snape nodded, and it was only due to Merlin's years of practice that he was able to withhold a smirk at him believing the lie, "and in arithmancy, Sir, I think I may be a bit behind," he put on a worried mask "as I only started studying it in mid July last year, so I am only up to twelfth root divisions, but I think I can catch up, if I work hard, sir."

"Is mid July not the middle of the summer break?"

"Well, Sir, my uncle and I never really had set holidays, we worked when we wanted, and breaked when we wanted, for example, sir, sometimes we would work for weeks on end with no breaks and long days, which was when we were inspired, and sometimes we would go months with just a few hours here and there, though that was rare."

"I see." Snape sounded horribly skeptical. 

From just the half an hour's discussion he had had with the man, Merlin could tell that the golden trio may be justified in their hatred of him. He appeared skeptical and cold towards Merlin throughout their interaction, and Merlin could easily see him picking on Gryffindors, but Merlin also knew why, he was being so cold, after all, it was much easier being a spy if one stayed in character all the time, not to mention the fact that half the Slytherins would tattle straight to their parents if they thought he was being unfaithful to the dark side. So yes, he did sympathize with the man, but that was still no excuse to be quite so mean to the Griffindors, what's the point in being on the side of the light if nobody from the light trusted you? That is assuming, of course, that the trio had not horribly exaggerated their tales.

"Well, Emerson, you seem to be on par if not above most of your class mates in all of your classes, possibly barring arithmancy, so I doubt that you will need private tutoring in any of your subjects, however, I will leave that up for your teachers to decide. Apart from that, is there anything you wish to speak with me about? Anything at all?"

Merlin was only mildly surprised by the last bit, but just replied with a simple "no, may I go now, sir?"

"Of corse, do you need help finding your way back to the common room?"

"No, thank you, sir, I think I can remember the way." Snape merely nodded, and gestures for Merlin to take his leave.

He stood up to do so, but just as he reached the door, he made a decision, looking over his shoulder at the Professor, he said "you know, sir, that spying only works for as long as your own side trust you." He did not wait to gauge Snape's reaction simply turned around and went back to the common room.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the long time between updates (again) but hopefully with the quarantine, I'll have more time to write, and who knows, maybe even get some sort of upload schedule.

Harry sighed, he was trying to do some potions revision for the start of term test that would surely be set. ‘Trying’ being the operative word. The fact was, he just couldn’t concentrate, his mind kept wandering to other topics, or, more specifically, the topic of Milo Emerson.

So many things just didn’t make sense where Milo was concerned - for example, when they were doing their homework during the holidays, Milo had been a straight up prodigy in potions, care, and herbology, but average in most of his other subjects… Was that even possible? Not only that, but everything around him just seemed too… convenient… an uncle who was able to make better brooms than anything Harry’d ever seen? Who was also likely better than Snape at potions? The fact that he had a huge library - and probably the largest mansion he’d ever been in - but Ron hadn’t heard of his family - which was clearly one of the largest and wealthiest there was… well, admittedly he didn’t know that for sure, but he was sure that if the Weasleys had recognised the name, they would have brought it up. Ron and Hermione seemed to think he was just being paranoid, but something just felt... off, where Milo was concerned - like he was hiding something. Something big.

Mind you, Ron and Hermione may not disagree now that Milo had been put in Slytherin. Harry was highly suspicious of him, he could easily have just made his speech up in the hopes of earning their trust, after all, to get into Slytherin, he had to be a good liar and manipulator.

Harry sighed and turned back to his work. Moonstone. What had Snape said about moonstone again? He groaned, and, deciding he wasn't going to get any more work done, went up to his new dorm.

The next morning, Harry practically had to jump on Ron to get him out of bed, and in the end, it was only the threat of missing breakfast that got him up; they headed down to the great hall together, passing Milo in the small teachers entrance, which was still in use, as they were yet to remove their prank. Harry gave him a hard glare, as they passed, and Ron just looked away defiantly - even Hermione seemed slightly uncomfortable. Milo seemed unperturbed by the obvious hostility, though, and simply grinned at them as they passed.

They made their way over to the Gryffindor table, and sat down by Fred and George, who immediately began questioning them about how they made their prank, which was still active - maybe it was time to deactivate it? - probably.

They spent breakfast excitedly talking about their new defence teacher and dodging Fred and George’s questions. They discussed Professor Moody, wondering what he would be like - after all, they’d had mixed luck in previous years, when it came to their defence professors.

About halfway through the meal, Professor McGonagall came around with their lesson timetables for the year, and after a quick scan, the trio headed off to charms, with, unfortunately, the Slytherins.

The first day went surprisingly smoothly, due partly, no doubt to the fact that they somehow managed to evade interactions with Malfoy.

Tuesday was their first potions lesson of the year, and was - again - with the slytherins. Harry was mildly curious as to how Milo would perform, after all, he was supposedly quite proficient, if Harry’s previous experiences with his potions was accurate.

They all lined up silently outside Snape’s door, trying to ignore Malfoy’s constant attempts to rile them, until Snape’s oily voice came from within the classroom, commanding them to enter. They all sat down in pairs, and began taking out their things - Neville sat down on the end of the bench that he and Ron were sitting on - as he didn’t have a partener, and nobody else was single.

Harry noticed that as Milo entered, Snape's eyes seemed to follow him, almost warily, and with definite curiosity. Huh. Weird.

“We shall start this year by brewing a fairly simple potion that I expect everybody to receive pass marks on - and if you don’t...” Snape didn’t finnish the sentence, instead leaving it up to the imagination of the students. Neville paled at the obvious threat, and took a gulp as Snape's sinister smirk turned on him. “Longbottom - you don’t appear to have a partner” Snape sneared - “and luckily for you, neither does Everson” He gulped again, and Harry watched as Milo cheerily picked up his belongings and moved to sit next to Neville, who at this point was almost visibly trembling.

“Today you will be making a swelling solution - instructions are on the bord. Go.” Milo stood up and began making his way towards the store cupboard before Harry even had a chance to fully process Snape’s instructions, and was on his way back to their desk by the time the rest of the class had made it to the ingredients store.

Harry waited until after the initial rush to get his ingredients, and when he came back, Milo was nattering away to a very scared and slightly confused Neville. “I’m Milo! You must be Neville, I’ve heard great things about your prowess in the greenhouses you know! Harry Ron and Hermione speak very highly of you! I stayed with Ron's family at the burrow during the summer you know, it was great fun, they're all so nice! Especially Ron’s mum, - although, she did decided I needed more fattening up - honestly! She fed me so much!”

All the while he was talking, his hands were almost on some sort of auto pilot, chopping, stirring and crushing without even a glance towards the instructions. Suddenly, Milo seemed to realise he was rambling, and stopped abruptly, before saying “sorry! I’m rambling, aren’t I. And I'm not even giving you a chance to help with the brewing! Sorry!” 

Snape, unfortunately, seemed to notice that Harry was watching Milo and Neville "Copying, are we Potter? Ten points from Griffindor - eyes on your own cauldron."

Harry glared at Snape angrily - he hadn't even been doing anything! He turned back to his and Ron’s potion, which was a sort of acid green, instead of the correct mint green, for the stage they were on - which, Harry supposed, wasn’t actually that bad, all things considered.

Harry managed to stay focused on his own potion for most of the lesson, but he couldn’t help but occasionally turn to listen to Milo explaining to Neville why adding porcupine quills before taking the potion off the heat would cause an explosion, and, at one point, he even caught him explaining why the dandelion root was necessary in terms of herbology, and how the different aspects of the plant and how it grows affects the potion.

By the time Milo and Neville had finished their potion, there was still nearly twenty minutes until the end of the lesson, which lead to them merely sitting, and Milo rambling on about how various plant’s herbology affects their uses in potion making, which Milo seemed to have decided Neville found interesting, despite his still obvious (though lesser) fear of the slytherin.

Only five minutes of this had passed before Snape swooped over to them like a bat “chatting, are we, Emerson, Longbottom? Do you really think you can get away with this? I expected better from a member of my own house, Emerson, you will see me -”

“Actually, sir, we’ve finished, which is why we are discussing various different plants and how their Herbological features affect their uses in potion making.” The whole classroom held its breath - nobody spoke to Snape like that, and nobody interrupted him - even the Slytherins knew not to.

“Impossible you still have fifteen minuets left.” he swooped over to their potion as the whole class watched, with bated breath, for Snape’s verdict on the potion. “It is… passable Everson - you are clearly talented, but Longbottom” he said rounding on Neville “When I assign a potion to be brewed in pairs, I expect both members of each pair to participate. So. for letting your partner do all the work, twenty points fro -”

But Snape never got to finish his sentence, because Milo interrupted him again “actually sir, Neville and I did equal work in making the potion”. Harry gaped at Milo - a slytherin - who had just purposefully stopped Snape from taking away points from Neville - a gryffindor. Glancing over at Malfoy, he saw that he was glaring at Milo, as was every other Slytherin in the room. Snape merely glared at Milo, "very well." He seemed almost as lost for words as the Griffindors, and yet he merely shot the pair one last glare before going back to his desk

Why did he not take points from Milo? It was strange, but Snape seemed almost scared of the boy, which obviously could not be correct, but Harry was sure that if any other Slytherin had dared speak to him like that, he would have taken points, or even awarded a detention. Let alone if it was a Griffindor.

Harry shook his head - something, he realised, had become somewhat of a habit since Milo came into his life, and nudged Ron, who was also gaping. He gestured to their potion, which was a mat royal purple as opposed to the intended reflective lavender. And, looking up to check the instructions, he quickly began, with Ron, racing to finish their potion before the end of the period.

The lesson finished with each pair taking up a sample of their work so while Ron took up some of their potion, Harry began tidying up their spare ingredients. Glancing over, he could see Milo doing the same, obviously having sent Neville away with a sample of their potion - which, Harry conceded, was a very unusual thing to happen, as normally, nobody ever trusted Neville to not trip over and spill it everywhere, earning them no marks.

When Ron and Neville got back - with, surprisingly, no incident, Ron began helping him clear up, and Neville packed up his belongings, seeing as Milo had, somehow, managed to clear up all their potion ingredients already.

As they were heading out, Snape's oily voice hissed at Milo to remain put. Harry almost felt bad for the slytherin - almost. After all, he had helped Neville and stopped Snape from taking points from Gryffindor.

Harry shook his head slightly - he really needed to stop doing that - and turned to Neville, asking “so, what do you think of Milo?”

“He’s n-not bad, for a Slytherin. The connection between Herbology and potions is very interesting, you know. I never really thought about how they were connected - did you know that it’s because dragon roots like to grow in highly magical soil, that they are so reactive in potions, because of their high magic levels!”

It didn’t pass Harry by that Neville’s voice became significantly less shaky as he talked more. He rambled on about all the different plants and what Milo had said about them, and when he had talked about all of those that Milo had talked about, he began making his own theories, which seemed to fascinate Hermione, who joined in speculation about different ingredients, while Harry and Ron began a discussion about quidditch, and how their new brooms would help the team, and even discussing whether they would be able to get Hermione to lend her broom to the team for matches.

After break, they had Transfiguration, which saw them turning beetles into buttons, and then lunch before charms and herbology.

With Thursday, came their first Defence lesson with professor Moody. It was really interesting, and it was clear Fred and George were right in saying that he knew what he was doing.

Milo, on the other hand, didn't seem to be enjoying the lesson. At all. He seemed positively repulsed by Moody, and made very little attempt to hide it.

Harry sighed, he didn't understand Milo. He really didn't. Things like his obvious distrust of Moody went against what Harry knew of him - which was that he seemed trusting, and didn't outwardly show dislike of anyone - probably to make them easier to manipulate.

When the weekend came, Hermione, much to the disgust of Ron, dragged them to the library to do homework, which took them most of the day, before Ron finally had had enough, and dragged Harry out to go for a fly. Which, despite not being able to play quidditch, was very fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but I was really struggling with Harry's pov.
> 
> Any ideas? Advise? Things you want to happen? Leave your ideas in the comments! I'm always open to suggestions :)
> 
> Also, if anyone's has any ideas for a better book summary than I currently have, drop it in  
the comments! I really aren't good at summaries, so any help would be appreciated!


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